Someone To Talk To
by HealerAriel
Summary: After having his heart broken yet again, Remy LeBeau chances to happen upon someone else who's had failed romances. But why does this woman's story hit so close to home? Semi-AU, Romy pairing. Enjoy, and please review, for it shall make me smile. XOXO


(A/N- This little one-shot came to me suddenly in the shower tonight - don't ask - and I feel compelled to write it out, because it sounds promising in my head. There may be some inaccurate details here and there, but I ask you to please humor me, because most of my knowledge of Remy's past comes from the cartoon, and bios on the internet - one bio said he'd been kidnapped because of his eyes; the other said he'd been abandoned for the same reason, but the abandonment theory works better for me, so it's the one I'll be using in here. If all else fails, think of this as an AU, and it won't bother you. And any French I use will not be properly accented, for the simple fact that I've no clue how to type in the codes for accents. Whenever I try, it doesn't work... That said, sit back and enjoy!)

Remy Lebeau's night had been spent walking around New Orleans, silently cursing his rotten luck. He'd checked in with the rest of the team earlier via payphone, consequently enduring nigh five minutes of being chewed out by Logan for going AWOL. Somehow, it was comforting to know the little Canadian berzerker had been worried about him, but he couldn't bear to go back now.

Going back would mean facing _her_.

The worst part of it, though, was that no matter how many times she rejected him, no matter how many times she left him, he loved her. Loved her so much it hurt. He wanted to believe she felt the same way, but at times like these, he was almost certain she didn't.

_Ain't as though I really deserve t'be loved_, he told himself, kicking a stray pebble along the sidewalk of the rural neighborhood he'd wandered into, and wishing like hell for the burning pain in his chest to subside.

He allowed himself to drop heavily onto an iron bench outside a gated yard, and cradled his head in his hands. He'd always tried to be strong, but right now he didn't even have the strength to keep the tears from falling.

"What's the matter, honey?"

The voice, though gentle, had startled him. After hastily putting on his sunglasses to hide his demonic eyes - as well as the fact that he'd been crying - he looked up to see a woman standing just inside the gate. She had a kind look about her, with a slim build and brown hair.

"It... it's nothin', ma'am."

"Don't lie to me," she reprimanded, but just as gently as before. "Young men don't cry for no reason. There's gotta be somethin' botherin' you. Why don't you come inside and tell me about it? You look like you could use some company."

"_Merci_," he replied softly, and she led him into the house. The home was just as small on the inside as it looked from the outside, but it was cozy, and something about it - be it the angel decor all around, or the unmistakeable scent of baking sugar cookies - made him feel completely at ease for the first time in... Aw hell, he sure wasn't gonna count.

"You want anythin' to eat?" his new companion asked, heading into the kitchen and stooping to pull the aforementioned cookies out of the oven, then proceeding to transfer them onto a sheet of wax paper on her countertop. "The cookies need to cool a few minutes, but I could fix you somethin' more substantial in the meantime."

"No t'anks."

"Coffee?" she offered. He nodded, and she set about brewing the pot of coffee. Her task complete, she came and sat down at the small wooden table, and he followed suit. "Oh, I completely forgot to introduce myself! I'm Mrs. Pepper Winslow," she told him.

"My name's Remy LeBeau," he said.

"Well, that's a pretty name; suits a handsome boy like yourself. Speakin' of which... now that I see you in the light, you look a whole lot like someone I used to know," Mrs. Winslow said, studying his face for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Brings back memories."

"Dey good mem'ries?"

"Not all of them," she admitted, sadness showing in her warm brown eyes. "But that's been over and done with for a long time. Now, you gonna tell me what had you so upset out there?" Remy chuckled humorlessly.

"Dat be a woman's doin', ma'am," he replied. The sorrow in Mrs. Winslow's eyes was now of an empathetic variety.

"Had a fight with your girl?"

"Wish it was jus dat... she lef' me. Hell, she _always_ leavin' me. Seems we can't stay t'gether fo' a month wit'out her gettin' unhappy 'bout somethin'. I s'pose it'd be better to jus let it go, but I can't. I love her too much t' do sometin' like dat."

"What does she get so upset about?"

"Uh..." Remy deliberated with himself for a moment, but settled for the truth, with a quick plea to whatever higher power there may have been that Mrs. Winslow wouldn't turn out to be a mutant-hater. "Well, she's a mutant - we both are - an' wit her powers, it's imposs'ble fo' us to touch skin to skin." Seeing an angry look come over Mrs. Winslow's visage, he waited to be promptly kicked out and told never to return.

"Now how on Earth can that be seen as a plausible reason for leavin' someone?"

Remy breathed a none-too-subtle sigh of relief. He'd been afraid that she'd despise him now that she knew he was a mutant, and he told her so. She gave him her sad smile.

"No, I've never hated mutants," she assured him, then looked down at the table, seeming suddenly very interested in the grain of the wood, and sighed deeply. "The man you look like was a mutant, and if it hadn'ta been for my momma, I might have married him and lived happily ever after, like a fairytale."

"What did your momma do?"

"Ah, it's a long story," she said, waving away the question and returning to the counter to pour the coffee into pretty china cups, and setting a few cookies on a matching plate.

"I got no other plans," Remy said, flashing a charming grin, and hoping that maybe hearing someone else's story of love gone wrong would take his mind off his own troubles. "'Sides, you been listenin' t' me talk, may as well return de favor, _non_?" Mrs. Winslow smiled wryly as she set the midnight snack on the table.

"You really _are_ the spittin' image o' Daniel, tryin' to charm me into doin' what you want."

"Sound like me and dis Daniel _homme_ coulda got along very well," Remy chortled, grabbing a cookie. "Or hated each other. Dat's what seem t' happen when folks are too much alike."

"Of course."

"So... you gon' tell me a story, Miss Pepper?"

"It's not a happy story, honey."

"Mine ain't either, but I told it. Might do you some good t' get it off your chest," he suggested, shamelessly throwing all his charm into play. It was a very underated superpower to have. Mrs. Winslow sighed again, stirring her coffee absently.

"Well... I met Daniel when I was thirteen years old, and it was love at first sight, just like in the movies. Problem was, my momma was one of those strictly religious, overprotective types, so she wouldn'ta let me see Danny even if he _had_ been my age - he was three years older than me. So, naturally..."

"You started seein' him behind her back?"

"Yes. We managed to hide it from her for two years, even. But then we started gettin' a little more physical, and when I was fifteen, I wound up gettin' pregnant."

"Can't hide dat too well."

"Exactly. I told Danny soon as I found out, and I begged him to let me live with him 'cause I knew my momma would disown me for 'defilin' myself'. Now, I can't remember just what excuse he gave me for it, but he said it wouldn't be safe for me to live with him, and instead told me to tell my momma I'd got raped. See, in Momma's book, gettin' an abortion would send you to Hell just as quick as havin' premarital intercourse, so tellin' her the sex was against my will would save me and the baby."

"Dat don' make no sense, _chere_."

"No, and to this day I can't say I understand Momma's logic there, but whatever was goin' on in that head o' hers, Danny's idea worked like a charm. Well, at least it did, until she saw my son. She'd been visitin' a friend or somethin' when I bore him - at the house, Momma didn't trust doctors - so I at least had some time with my baby before she got to him." Mrs. Winslow's eyes were full of supressed pain. "He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and I've never loved anything so much, but I knew right away he was a mutant like Danny."

"How? What did he look like?"

"His eyes weren't normal." She laughed dryly. "Even I was scared for a second when I saw them the first time; they really _did_ look like demon eyes, all black and red."

Remy felt a jolt. _Dis is feelin' a little too familiar_...

Mrs. Winslow seemed not to notice his reaction, and continued along with her tale.

"Well, as soon as Momma saw him, she thought he _was_ a demon. Started shriekin' about how the Devil himself musta placed his cursed seed in her daughter's womb. I didn't want her to do anythin' to hurt him, so I caved and told her the truth about me and Danny. She quieted down, and I figured she accepted it, so I finally relaxed and went to sleep - it's tirin' to bear a child, 'specially for a teenager whose body ain't ready for it.

"When I woke up the next mornin', my son was gone. I panicked, of course, and I busted into Momma's bedroom, demandin' to know where he was. 'Satan possessed you to lie to me about some boy,' she said. 'Well, I fixed him. I left that demon-child in the swamp to be eaten by the alligators.'

"I think I stayed in bed for a week straight. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, all I could do was cry. When I finally got up the nerve to tell Danny what had happened, he blamed it all on me. And, oh, I was so angry with him! I said, 'If you'd have let me live with you, our baby'd be alive now! Don't you go makin' this all my fault!' He knew I was right, of course, but he refused to admit that he was the least bit guilty, and he said he never wanted to see me again."

"An', _did_ you ever see him again?" Remy asked. Mrs. Winslow shook her head.

"Never. Never saw him, never heard from him. It was like he just disappeared off the face of the Earth." She snorted. "So much for your happy ending, right? Anyways, a coupl'a years later, when I was eighteen, I married my friend Frank Winslow. We weren't in love, you understand, but we got along, and he was a good man and a good husband."

"Was?"

"He died five years ago. Cancer." The widow tucked a strand of greying hair behind her left ear. "I s'pose I ain't had much luck with men. Lost my husband, lost Daniel, lost my baby boy..." Remy saw tears welling in her eyes. "God, losin' my son was the most heartbreakin' of it all!"

"Maybe... he ain't dead, after all," Remy said softly.

"I can't see how he'd have survived," Mrs. Winslow replied thickly, wiping furiously at the tears running down her cheeks. "Momma was real thorough when she wanted somethin' done; wouldn't doubt it if she fed 'im to the gators herself, just to make sure he was good an' dead!"

"De t'ing is, though," he began, rising from the table, "I got a feelin' I know dis _homme_, your son." The woman looked as though an electric shock had gone through her body at the mention of this. "Y'see, dere ain't too many mutants wit eyes that color. Far as I know," he said, finally removing his sunglasses, "I'm de only one dere is."

Mrs. Winslow's eyes grew to twice their original size, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. She was speechless for a good two-and-a-half minutes, before rushing to him and clasping him in her arms as tightly as she could.

"My God, it can't be you, can it?" Her tears returned in full force. "Lord, that's why you look so much like Daniel!"

"Ain't no reason t' cry, now, is it?" Remy teased lightly, patting the sobbing woman on the back.

"Sure it is!" she insisted, though smiling through her tears. "I ain't seen you since you were three days old - I thought you were gator-bait! It's all a little overwhelmin' for me right now, alright?"

_Well, LeBeau, dat's one woman you got back into y'life_. _Now you jus gotta worry 'bout_-

The doorbell chimed before he could finish his train of thought.

"Guess I better answer that," his mother said, finally releasing him and wiping her eyes as she headed for the door. Remy sat back down at the table.

_Good timin', I was startin' to go numb. She got quite a grip, ma mere. Maybe I should see if Logan'd be up to sniffin' out Monsieur Daniel on our free time, give de man a piece of my mind for treatin' his woman dat way._

"Can I help you, dear?" he heard Pepper ask from the next room. Wasn't any real point in eavesdropping, probably just a door-to-door salesman, or some of those Girl Scouts he'd seen earlier.

"Yes, ma'am. Ah'm lookin' for a man named Remy LeBeau." Remy nearly fell off his chair.

_Now_ there was a point in eavesdropping!

Pepper regarded the pretty young woman suspiciously; the short, grumpy-looking man behind her, even more so. How could they possibly have known to come to her house?

"I take it you're friends of his?"

"'Friends' is a strong word," the man grunted. The woman shot him a withering glare, then trained her bright green eyes back onto Pepper.

"Yes, we're his friends. The cranky little fella's Logan, and Ah'm... Marie."

"Mrs. Winslow," she said. "Now, I hope you don't mind my askin', but what are the two of you doin' searchin' for people so late at night? Surely whatever you needed him for coulda waited until tomorrow mornin'."

"Ah... Ah needed to tell him Ah'm sorry," Marie said quietly, her eyes downcast. "Ah've treated him kinda bad lately..."

"Yer treatin' _me_ bad _now_, Rogie," Pepper heard Logan growl under his breath, before he proceeded to mutter about chasing Cajuns in the wee hours of the morning. Pepper - and apparently Marie, as well - decided to ignore him.

"You wouldn't happen to be the one who keeps breakin' his heart, now, would you, Marie?" Pepper asked, raising an eyebrow. The girl flushed, and she had her answer. "Well, I can't say I like you too much after seein' him so miserable"- Marie stared at the ground -"but I'll go get him."

Remy's mind was reeling. She was sorry? She'd come all this way - probably listening to Logan bitch the whole time - just to apologize to him?

_I could die happy 'bout now..._

"I think your friends miss you, honey," Pepper said, leaning on the doorframe.

"What can I say? Remy jus got dat charisma," he replied, the trademark grin spreading across his face for the first time that night. "Though I t'ink you coulda gone a little bit easier on de woman, _Maman_."

"You were listenin' the whole time, weren't you?"

"Resistin' temptation ain't exactly my strong suit," he admitted. Pepper laughed, and went to grab a pen and a leaf of paper out of one of her cabinets. She ripped the paper in half, wrote her phone number on one of the pieces, and indicated that he do the same with the unused piece.

"I'll be damned if you're gonna get outta callin' your momma, boy," she said threateningly, though her eyes glittered with happiness.

"I would never do a t'ing like dat," he assured, still grinning widely. He informed her that he cohabited with a number of strange individuals who were likely to answer the telephone, kissed her goodbye, and walked out to where two of said individuals were waiting rather impatiently.

Rogue's eyes lit up when she saw him, and she flew - quite literally - into his arms.

_No, _now_ I can die happy._

"Ah'm so sorry, Remy," she whispered, nuzzling his chest. "Can ya ever forgive me?"

"Already have," he replied, burying his face in her soft, rosemary-scented hair.

"Save the sweet southern lovin' fer when I'm not around, would ya?" Logan grouched. "I missed dinner huntin' ya down, Cajun, and I ain't in the mood."

"Wolvie was worried about ya," Rogue said, smiling dazzlingly as she slipped her arm around Remy's waist.

"He got a big heart, our Wolverine."

"I heard that," the Canadian snarled, unsheathing his claws. "Keep talkin' and you ain't gonna have _any_ heart, Gumbo."

"De t'ings you do to hide your true feelin's, _mon ami_. You never cease to astound me."

The couple watched in amusement as Logan led the way back to where he and Rogue had parked the Blackbird, attacking trees and garbage cans all the way.

"By the way, Remy," she asked as they boarded the jet. "Who was that woman?"

"Dat was my mother, _chere_." Noticing the shocked look on her face, he added, "I'll tell you about it later."

(A/N- See, semi-AU, but cute nonetheless, right? Pretty please review!)


End file.
